


Reunion

by babykid528



Series: Let Chaos Storm [1]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Groping, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/babykid528
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is exhausted by the press tour by the time he reaches the LA Premiere for Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit. </p><p>A friendly face works wonders as a pick-me-up, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [highflyerwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/highflyerwings/gifts).



> Inspired by [jenlynn820's picture post of Bruce Greenwood at the Jack Ryan premiere](http://jenlynn820.tumblr.com/post/74127740844/bruce-greenwood-at-the-jack-ryan-shadow-recruit).
> 
> Apologies for typos. It's very late/early in the day and this is unbeta'd.

Chris should be used to press tours by now. He should be, but he’ll never be. They’re exhausting in a way that just can’t be prepared for. By the time he gets to the LA premiere, he’s mentally plotting a short, solitary staycation, full of beer and pizza, between the incessant interview questions. 

He goes through the motions on the premiere’s red carpet. He greets fans, greets autograph vultures, greets reporters. Just greets and greets and greets.

By the time he enters the theater, he’s gritting his teeth.

“It doesn’t get any easier, does it?” A familiar voice asks him.

Chris’ chest tightens and he turns around fast, no doubt looking more eager to see the person behind him than he should in public.

“Bruce,” he sighs, taking in the sight of his friend, “You came.”

Bruce grins at him.

“Of course I came.”

Chris clenches his hands into fists at his side to keep himself from reaching out to touch Bruce. It’s all in vain, though. Bruce reaches out instead and pulls Chris into a hug. Chris can only be so strong, resisting temptation. With Bruce holding him, he can’t keep himself from hugging Bruce in return.

“How’re you holding up?” Bruce asks on a whisper, mouth dangerously close to Chris’ ear.

“I’m holding,” he says in answer. He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a reassurance to Bruce that he’s fine, or if it’s meant to be a simple statement about the truth of their current situation. Chris is indeed holding. He’s holding on tight to Bruce, tighter than when the hug started.

“I’ve missed you too,” Bruce tells him, breath and lips now hot against the shell of Chris’ ear.

Chris shivers. Bruce’s words are a response to a confession Chris doesn’t dare make verbally. The hug is apparently enough to convey his meaning though.

“Chris, we have to head inside,” one of the handlers or his PA or someone says, then, and Bruce releases Chris.

Chris feels suddenly untethered, like he might not be able to keep himself upright, let alone composed for the rest of the evening.

Bruce must see him waver though, because he reaches out and squeezes the back of Chris’ neck. Chris offers him a smile, small, but genuine.

“We can catch up afterward?” Bruce asks while swiping his thumb across the side of Chris’ neck, sending a shiver down Chris’ spine.

Chris nods, mouth going dry. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he answers. He can’t be sure, in the awkward lighting of the theater lobby, but it seems like Bruce’s eyes get darker as they dart to Chris’ parted lips before returning to look him in the eyes.

“Good,” Bruce says, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Chris takes a deep breath and turns to follow whoever is leading him to wherever he’s supposed to be, then. Bruce drags his blunt nails across the nape of Chris’ neck as Chris’ movement dislodges his hand.

Chris bites back a moan as his steps forward falter. He doesn’t turn to look back at Bruce, but he’s almost sure the man is smirking. 

Chris consoles himself with the knowledge that in a few hours he’ll be wiping that smirk off his face, for sure. He just has to make it through the movie.

He takes another deep breath and begins walking again. He can definitely do this.

\---

When the film is finished, Chris poses for pictures and talks to more people about their responses to the work. He tries not to fidget too hard or convey his impatience. He has promises to keep, though.

“And miles to go before I sleep,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What’s that?” the person next to him asks.

He shakes his head, “Nothing. Sorry. I need to run to the bathroom, actually.”

He sneaks away at that excuse and searches the crowd, just shy of frantically, for Bruce’s face.

Bruce is out in the lobby where Chris left him, when he finally does locate him.

“This seemed like the right place to find you again,” Bruce tells him.

Chris nods. “Good thinking.”

Chris scans the area nearby and pulls Bruce into the nearest alcove.

“Hey,” Bruce protests the man-handling.

“Sorry,” Chris says. It might be his twentieth apology of the evening, but it’s the first one he really means. Though he’s not sorry they’re now alone and forced to stand much closer together to fit in the tiny space they’re occupying.

“The movie was good. You were incredible,” Bruce tells him.

Chris feels his face heat at the praise.

“It’s kind of weird to remember you weren’t in this one with me,” Chris tells him.

Bruce drags his thumb across Chris’ bearded jaw.

“I know,” he agrees, almost somberly.

Chris’ breath catches, as much from Bruce’s touch as from the memory that Into Darkness was the last time Bruce would likely ever be in a movie with Chris. 

It’s that same thought that had been the catalyst for the first time they’d let this mutual attraction and admiration get the better of them.

Bruce presses his whole palm against Chris’ jaw then and scratches his nails through the stubble beneath Chris’ ear.

They skip saying anything else and Bruce leans in to kiss Chris, bruising his lips possessively. Chris’s lips part again, on a stifled sigh, and Bruce licks his way into Chris’ mouth. 

Chris sways on his feet, leaning forward into Bruce, like his spine has gone to jelly and Bruce is the only thing keeping him upright. Bruce gladly takes on that responsibility as he curls the fingers of his free hand around Chris’ elbow, holding onto Chris hard enough to leave marks on Chris’ skin, even through the layers of his suit.

Bruce breaks the kiss and Chris groans and presses closer.

“We should leave here,” Bruce says.

“No,” Chris protests, but Bruce cuts him off by palming Chris’ hardening cock through the front of his dress pants.

“Yes, we should,” he says, voice more authoritative, as he squeezes.

Chris’ eyes widen and he nods helplessly.

“Good boy,” Bruce breathes between them.

Chris’ eyes flutter shut and he bites back an embarrassing sound.

“I’m going to take you apart when we get you home,” Bruce promises.

He leans in just in time to swallow the embarrassing noise Chris can’t manage to prevent from escaping at those words and he kisses Chris thoroughly one last time before nudging Chris toward the theater’s exit.

All thoughts and hopes for a staycation that Chris spent hours formulating earlier in the day float right out of Chris’ head. This and everything that’s about to happen are way better than any solitary attempts at relaxation could possibly be.


End file.
